He glanced up at me from the book he was reading and smiled. “How was your day?”
I threw my keys on the counter and shrugged out of my coat. “It was fine,” I said, not meeting his eyes.
“Want me to make—”
“I lied. My day wasn’t fine.”
A frown creased Nicholas’s forehead as he closed his book. “What happened?”
“Were you planning on waiting until the plane took off to tell me you were going to Florida?”
Nicholas let out an audible breath. “I didn’t tell you about my trip?”
I shook my head. “No.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I totally thought I mentioned it to you. The trial should only be a few days, but I might meet up with some folks from company headquarters while I’m out there.”
My eyes bugged out at his nonchalance. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to hear these things from Daneen instead of my own boyfriend?”
Nicholas rolled his eyes. “Are we still on that? Daneen is not a threat to you.”
“Tell that to Daneen. You tell her everything else about me.”
Nicholas jerked his head back. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t appreciate you divulging all of the details about my book stuff to her—like getting rejected by Ginny Webber. It’s none of her business.”
Rubbing his temple, Nicholas said, “I know. I’m sorry. But what does it matter now? You’ve got Felicia.”
I grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled. “Do you also confide in Daneen about your daddy issues?”
Raising his palms, Nicholas asked, “What daddy issues?”
Pacing the kitchen, I said, “With your unsupportive parents, you guys have so much in common besides the law.”
“Not everyone is blessed with a perfect family like you,” Nicholas muttered.
“My family is not perfect.”
Nicholas let out a loud sigh. “This is silly. Why are we fighting about this? I’m sorry I said anything to Daneen. But, seriously, stop giving her so much power.”
“I don’t give her…” I pressed my lips shut as my mind flashed back to using the same words on Bridget about Hannah. It wasn’t exactly the same thing, but close enough. Maybe I was a hypocrite, but it didn’t make me any less upset with Nicholas. “Why is it so difficult for you to keep me apprised of what’s going on with you? I want to be your partner—not just your slam piece.”
Nicholas stood up and walked toward me. “You’re not just my…” His face contorted in laughter. “Slam piece?” He chuckled. “That’s a new one.”
“It’s not funny, Nicholas.” I turned away to wipe a tear from my cheek.
“I’m sorry, Kim.” His hands massaged my shoulders from behind. “What can I do to make it up to you?”
“You can’t fix everything with sex,” I whispered. Especially when you can’t stay awake long enough to close the deal.
“It’s a start though, right? A woman’s got needs.” He pinched my sides.
I released myself from his embrace and faced him. “I’m being serious. We’re so disconnected lately. Even when you’re with me, you don’t seem present because you’re so focused on work.”
This time it was Nicholas who turned his back on me. “There’s a lot riding on this trial. That’s all.”
I grabbed him by the elbows and guided him until he was facing me again. “You can talk to me about it, you know. Maybe I can help. Rob always says I’m his right arm.” I grinned. “Actually, he says I’m his right stump.”
Nicholas laughed halfheartedly. “I appreciate it, Kimmie, but I’ve got it covered.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. But thanks.”
I swallowed back my disappointment that he was shutting me out of his work again. “I sure hope you win the damn thing.”
“Me too. And I’m sorry I didn’t mention the trip to you earlier. It was an oversight. But on a bright note, the flight will give me time to start reading your book.”
My lips curled up slightly. “Really?” I had printed out the revised version just in case.
Nicholas nodded. “Really. We good now?”
Nodding, I said, “Uh huh.” This was a lie, but the part of Nicholas I always counted on to sniff out my needs when I couldn’t or was afraid to express them was lost, at least temporarily, to the big bad trial. Hopefully, he would return from the Sunshine State with his more sensitive and intuitive side in tow. And with any luck, he’d revert to the typical overworked attorney I fell in love with and leave the workaholic I barely recognized back in Florida with the palm trees and retired senior citizens.
I couldn’t wait as long to make things right with Bridget. Since she’d made it clear she wasn’t going to answer the phone when I called or return my numerous messages, I proceeded to Plan B and called Jonathan the following day. Unlike his stubborn girlfriend, he picked up on the first ring. “Hey, Kim.” The resigned tone of his voice suggested my call was not much of a surprise.
“Put her on.”
After a brief pause during which I clearly heard Bridget say, “Tell her I’m not here,” Jonathan said, “She’s…she’s not home.”
“Either you’re lying to me, or you’re cheating on Bridget with another girl who just said ‘Tell her I’m not home.’”
Jonathan groaned. “She doesn’t want to talk to you. I told her she was being silly, but she won’t listen.”
“Please tell her Nicholas is going to Florida tomorrow for a trial and didn’t see the point in telling me. I had to hear it from Rob and Daneen.” I was totally playing the pity card—hoping Bridget would set aside our fight over Hannah to comfort me in my moment of need.
I listened to Jonathan repeat what I said to Bridget. Then I heard Bridget say, “Give me the phone.” I smiled. Friendship was thicker than water.
As soon as I heard her breathe into the phone, I said, “Thank God. I’m so sorry—”
Cutting me off before I could complete my apology, Bridget said, “Wow, Kim. I was only half-serious when I said you were losing Nicholas, but it doesn’t look good for you. At all. Sorry.”
Except she didn’t sound sorry. She sounded smug. I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out.
“It’s a good thing you have Hannah.”
As all of the blood in my body seemed to converge in my face, I balled my free hand in a fist, as angry as I’d ever been with Bridget in almost two decades of friendship. “Why are you being such a bitch? Are you that jealous of Hannah?”
Bridget snorted. “As if.”
“You know what, Bridget? I’m sorry I lied, but considering how you’re acting, maybe it’s good I did. At least now I know what you’re capable of.”
“Whatever—”
“And maybe I am in danger of losing Nicholas, but you’re not fooling me at all. Your love nest with Jonathan is all blissful and cozy right now, but eventually, his aversion to marriage and kids will sink in, and you guys will implode too. Don’t come to me when that happens. I’ll be with Hannah.” As I pressed “end” on the call with force, I wished it was a rotary phone I could slam for effect.
Chapter 29
With the entire squad in Florida, most of my work-related responsibilities the following week were limited to covering the phones, and so I spent much of the daytime hours working on my edits. Since there was no one waiting for me at home, and I wasn’t on speaking terms with my best friend, most of my nighttime hours were also spent finalizing my revisions, either at my kitchen table or the coffee shop. After reading the final draft out loud in my living room in a dramatic monologue and giving myself a standing ovation when I finished, I knew I’d nailed it. Now that I’d reached the “after” phase of the process, I was actually happy Felicia had rebuffed the original version because I knew the novel was bet
ter for it—something I was too blinded by fear of failure to appreciate in the “before” stage. Even if she volleyed it back to me for more changes, I would get it right eventually—no matter how many rounds it took. Knowing I was capable of giving my all to something when it really mattered was electrifying, and even the muddled conditions of my personal life couldn’t take that victory away from me. Nicholas would be so proud, if only he were paying attention. For now, I would have to be proud for the both of us.
With the updated version of A Blogger’s Life fired off to Felicia, I had time to prepare for the approaching dinner with Caroline. I had been so consumed with my own drama that I didn’t have the chance to obsess over her secret. She’d promised it wasn’t bad, but “bad” was a relative term. For instance, she might think moving her permanent residence to the Galapagos Islands was the best news ever, but I’d be crushed. But at least I knew she wasn’t suffering from a terminal illness because that would be tragic no matter the perspective. Hopefully, she’d be so animated in delivering her news she’d fail to notice the tension between Bridget and me. Although she’d have to be blind, deaf, and seriously clueless to miss it. I had no plans to cause a scene, but I also did not intend to offer Bridget a white flag. When I flashed back to the icy tone of her voice when she predicted the end of my relationship with Nicholas, I was struck with an urge to pull out every strand of hair from her head by the roots. I still regretted my impulsive decision to keep my dinner with Hannah from her, but my sole motivation was to protect Bridget from unnecessary distress, and I had apologized—more than once. Her initial reaction made perfect sense, as catching me “in the act” with Hannah after being told I was having dinner with Nicholas must have hurt, but how many times could I say “I’m sorry”? And how many times should a girl need to apologize before her friend—her best friend—forgave her? Once the shock wore off, Bridget should have accepted my apology, offered her own regret for the nasty words she uttered, and called it a day, but instead she turned a minor tiff into an all-out war.
I hoped Parlor Steak House, where Caroline had made a seven o’clock reservation, wouldn’t have a strict policy about not seating diners until the entire party had arrived, as I purposely showed up ten minutes late. If the odds were in my favor, rather than withstand several minutes of awkward conversation standing at the bar avoiding eye contact with Bridget, I would be led directly to our table where I could distract myself with the menu during any lulls in the conversation. If luck was not on my side, I would be the rude member of our group who showed up tardy, resulting in everyone else standing elbow to elbow listening to their stomachs growling.
I didn’t see any familiar faces at the crowded bar to the right of the restaurant’s entrance, and so I approached the hostess, who informed me my party was seated mere moments earlier. I followed her to the back of the restaurant where I caught sight of Caroline’s face at a circular table. She talked animatedly as three other heads bobbed up and down in response to whatever she was saying. I increased my pace, excited to see her after so many months, and then abruptly stopped short as the other faces came into view—Bridget, Jonathan, and…who was the brown-eyed guy with shaggy dark hair and full eyebrows? Whoever he was, he was adorable, despite the overuse of hair gel. Could he be the big surprise? I was so accustomed to Caroline’s independent spirit—albeit not necessarily by choice—it never dawned on me her secret might involve a guy.
The four of them stopped talking as the hostess pulled out a chair for me and placed another menu on the table. I remained standing, uncomfortably aware of all eyes on me, as I thanked her. After she walked away, I beamed at Caroline. “Hi.”
Caroline stood up and embraced me fiercely, shaking me from side to side. When she pulled away, she smiled. “I’m so glad you made it. We only sat down a couple of minutes ago.”
I shrugged out of my coat and sat down at the empty seat between Caroline and Jonathan. “I’m so sorry I’m late.” Glancing at the others at the table, I said, “Hi, everyone.”
To my left, Jonathan nodded. “Long.” Then he turned to Bridget nervously.
Her eyes flicked to mine briefly before she looked away, but the second of contact was enough for me to sense her discomfort rivaled mine.
My stomach hardened as I wondered if Caroline and her “friend” noticed the tension. Clearing my throat, I jutted my chin in the direction of Caroline’s “surprise” and smiled. “Hi. I’m Kim.” I sized him up, guessing from his attire—a slim-fit denim short-sleeved shirt and red jeans—that he was European. He confirmed this when he greeting me with, “All right?” in a British accent.
Caroline placed her hand over his. “This is Felix. He’s the reason I invited you all out for dinner tonight,” she said, glancing around the table. Focusing on me, she said, “I’m sorry Nicholas couldn’t be here. Bridget mentioned he was in Florida for a trial.”
I timidly looked in Bridget’s direction, but she had her head down. I swallowed hard. “Yeah. I’m on my own tonight. But no worries. Tonight’s not about me. It’s about you.”
Caroline grinned. “Thank you. You’ve probably already guessed my news involves Felix here.” She paused as we all nodded. “I don’t know quite how to say this, so I’ll just blurt it out. Felix is my…” She bit her lip. “Felix is my husband.”
I burst out laughing. “No way.” I waited for the others to chime in, but Bridget and Jonathan were silent as they gawked at Caroline and Felix, and Caroline and Felix grinned so wide, I could see their wisdom teeth. While the waiter poured prosecco in each of our glasses, I stopped laughing. “Wait. You’re serious?”
Caroline and Felix exchanged a private smile while he slipped a diamond ring on her finger right before our eyes.
Felix winked at me. “Quite serious.”
Caroline extended her hand toward Bridget, who peered at the ring with wide eyes. “Wow.”
Jonathan regained his bearings first. “I’ll take the liberty to congratulate you while Bridget and Kim pick their jaws off the floor.” He raised his glass in the air. “Congratulations.”
Caroline chuckled. “I know it’s shocking news. When I left, I was as single as a nun and not only did I meet someone, but I married him. It’s the craziest thing I’ve ever done, but I couldn’t be more ecstatic.” She kissed Felix on the cheek, running her fingers along his skin.
I had a barrage of questions requiring answers, the first one being, “Are you out of your freaking mind?” But for now, there was only one thing to say, so after taking a gulp of prosecco, I planted on a smile. “Congratulations. I’m so happy for you guys.” And I would be—as soon as I was certain Felix wasn’t a serial killer or using Caroline for a green card.
“Me too. Congrats, guys,” Bridget said, with what I knew from experience to be forced enthusiasm. Our eyes locked, and I saw my own shock mirrored in her expression. Our differences were temporarily forgotten as she widened her eyes at me as if to say, “Holy crap.”
Jonathan said, “Since the resident lawyer is not in attendance, I have to ask. Is this marriage legal?”
Her brows squished together, Caroline asked, “Why wouldn’t it be?”
My own half-assed legal mind waking up, I chimed in. “Yeah. Aren’t there immigration laws in play? Will Felix need to apply for a Green Card to live here?” I certainly hoped Carolyn planned to stay in the country once their world tour came to an end.
“I have dual citizenship,” Felix said with an easy grin.
Caroline nodded. “He’s been living here for ten years now but was visiting family while traveling for work. We sat next to each other on my flight to London, hit it off, and after spending a few days with his folks, he met up with me, and we’ve been together ever since. We flew directly to Vegas and have been married two days now.”
Okay, so the green card issue was off the table, but there was still a possibility he was a serial killer on the America’s Most Want
ed list. “What was the hurry? Didn’t you want to get married in front of friends and family?” They hadn’t even known each other an entire season. At this stage, Caroline wouldn’t know if Felix had seasonal affective disorder unless he volunteered the information. And he might not be aware of how bitchy Caroline got when Aunt Flo was in town.
Caroline smiled with her eyes as Felix squeezed her hand. “Neither of us cared about a big ceremony, but we’ll probably have a party when we come home for good. For now, we’ll treat the rest of my trip as our extended honeymoon.”
I wondered how Felix managed to get so much time off from work. “What do you do for a living, Felix?” Noting how parental and potentially stuck-up the question sounded, I winced inwardly.
But Caroline’s grin didn’t falter. “You’ll love this, Kim. Felix is a writer like you.”
“I write for a travel magazine, actually. After I met Caroline, I pitched a new feature. I’m writing a travel blog about discovering the world with my new bride. I’ll report on the grub in China, the posh hotels in Hong Kong, and the rugby in Australia and New Zealand.” He flashed his pearly whites in unabashed delight. “All while getting off with Caroline. Brill, right?”
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